The Way To An Engineer's Heart
by awwcoffeenooooo
Summary: Clearly, the quickest way to a certain engineer's heart is through his stomach. Extra points if it's Jemma Simmons doing the cooking. / Written for Team Biochem's Birthday Bash.


**As part of Team Biochem's birthday bash, I am here with a personal favorite of Jemma Simmons: her culinary skills.**

 **Of course, it's simple shipper math:**

 **FitzSimmons + food = The Sandwich™**

 **Here is that ;)**

 **Please enjoy as much as Fitz enjoys his sandwich :)**

* * *

"Fitz,"

He glances up from the papers he's smeared across Jemma's dorm room floor, up to his lab partner herself. His pencil restlessly raps against his knee, both of which are pulled up nearly to his chin's level.

"Hmm?" Fitz hums, still running the equations necessary for his project over in his mind.

"I can hear your stomach growling like a bloody Wampa from here,"

He scrunches his nose at her. "Hey!"

She sighs. "Really, though. When was the last time you ate?"

"Yesterday?" He thinks for a moment before cringing. "I think?"

"Ugh, _Fitz_!" Jemma crosses her arms at him. "For someone so obsessed with food, I'm surprised you always seem to forget it in the middle of your projects,"

He shrugs her off. "I'm jus' excited, tha's all. I'm so close, Simmons, you wouldn't believe,"

"No, I would actually," she hummed, raising her eyebrow in a fashion that reminded him eerily of his mum. "But that's no excuse."

Fitz groans, tossing his head back against the futon that they'd somehow managed to squeeze into the cramped space. "Fine! There's ramen in my bag. If you're so bent on my health, you can heat it up,"

"Yes, I am quite bent on your health actually," she muttered, stalking over to where his bag was strewn over her bed. After rummaging in his bag for a moment, she came up with the packet of noodles. "Which is exactly why this is going exactly where it belongs,"

The tin waste bin in the corner rattled in a circle for a moment before stilling, and Fitz gaped at her.

"Simmons!" He admonished. "I'm not carrying those around to save from Francis just for you to go tossing them out!"

Jemma rolled her eyes. "Well at this rate Francis is going to be dead long before any of us, so you'd might as well let him eat those glorified carcinogens to his heart's content."

Fitz floundered for words at that, hands shaking in exaggerated anger.

Jemma grinned triumphantly. "I'm running down to the market to pick up some actual food. You keep working your project, and I'll make us both something, alright?"

He sighed. "Fine. But only if you bring me a pack of those crisps."

She groaned from the hallway. "If you insist,"

"You're the best, Simmons!"

* * *

Jemma returned with two of her reusable bags full of vegetables and deli items, causing Fitz's nose to crinkle.

"Really?" he muttered, holding up a packaged jelly-like white sphere. "What nutritional value could this possibly hold?"

Jemma snatched it back from him, glaring. "That's fresh mozzarella, Fitz. It's one of the healthiest of all cheeses,"

He let out a hum, choosing instead to rummage through the rest of her offerings. He didn't comment on the amount of greenery involved, but Jemma could feel his discontentment from the set of his shoulders and the very real danger of his eyebrows disappearing into his curly hairline.

"Alright, shoo," she finally commanded, pushing him from the tiny kitchen. "You have a project to finish, and I have a dinner to make,"

Fitz stuck his tongue out at her as he exited, to which Jemma tossed a leaf of basil at his head.

* * *

Fitz was focused back on his project, once more attempting to work out the balancing equation he'd wrote up. If was tiring after so long, but as like so many times before he loved the feeling of working through every little bit of it.

However, the sound of Jemma's tiny food processor was ringing through the dorm, making it more than a little difficult to concentrate. Though small in size, the machine reminded Fitz more of a dinosaur: clunky and loud and in desperate need of an extinction.

Finally, the noise stopped, only to be punctuated by the growling of Fitz's stomach. Jemma hadn't allowed him the crisps yet, insisting that if he were to consume them first, that would be the first thing his body would digest and therefore making it worse for him. Fitz thought he should have stuck by his ramen.

Her processor started again, and he groaned, but luckily this time it only lasted a handful of seconds. Finally, calmness restored, Fitz continued scribbling down in his notebook.

He was interrupted yet again a handful of moments later by Jemma proudly sweeping in the door. She beamed at him, offering a paper plate bearing a roll of bread as if it were instead silver.

"I present to you - actual food!" She tipped her head to the side a little, clearly mocking him, and Fitz wrinkled his nose.

"No offence, but - what the _hell_ , Simmons?" ditching his disgust for her theatrics and instead cringing at the odor emanating from the sandwich, Fitz stared at the thing before him. "I think that smells worse than my dorm room,"

"Ugh, Fitz!" she admonished, swatting his head. "It's just the prosciutto. Healthy things don't smell like preservatives, hm?"

"Haha," he jested back sarcastically. "I'll happen to let you know that preservatives or no, good food smells good. Unlike that monstrosity right there."

"If you never try, then you'll never know," Jemma sing-songed.

"Stop quoting Coldplay!"

"Start eating!"

Grumbling, Fitz accepted the sandwich, stuffing a large bite into his mouth. He chewed softly, staring down at the roll still clutched between his fingers.

"Well?" Jemma prompted once he'd finished swallowing.

"Simmons, have I mentioned you're a bloody genius?"

She breaks out into a smug grin. "No, but I wouldn't mind hearing it a bit more often."

Fitz doesn't even have the shame to look abashed, stuffing as much of the sandwich as possible into his mouth with each bite. "You will, believe me."

Jemma breaks into an amused laugh, eyes crinkling up around the corner and only making her dark irises look like joyful lights. Fitz smiles to himself.

He could get used to seeing her like this, and most certainly if it's only at the price of calling her a bloody genius every chance he gets.

* * *

 **As always, would love to hear your thoughts! I think I might make this into a few more little pieces about other foods, but again I thrive off suggestions and comments :)**

 **Go Team Biochem!**

 **Tumblr / Instagram - WhenTheSkyeQuakes**


End file.
